Walking the Garden of Hope
by Aesculap
Summary: Castiel thinks Dean needs a vacation and seriously cheering up. And he knows the perfect place therefore. Implied Dean/Castiel


AN: Written for the deancastiel **QUICK FIRE 'Roll the Dice' **prompt nr.5** vacation**

I inscribe this ficlet to everyone in 'dire need of recration' such as a buddy of mine, downfall35 who currently is on vacation and therefore is not able to participate.

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**_Dean was bone tired and weary. It was hard to even find the strength to leave the car and he rather not wanted to return to their motel room. But sitting in the car all night was not an option either. Lately there had been too much arguments, too much fights between him and Sam. And the apocalypse was coming. Dean had lost any hope of stopping Lillith. Everything was so in vain. So pointless. So futile. That made the daily struggle so much harder. If he still had a driving force... Dean sight and put his left hand on the door handle. A soft rustle of feathers stopped him. He did not need to turn his head. He knew who occupied the passenger seat next to him. Dean could smell the soft and spicy scent, the hint of vanilla and aftershave he learned to associate with Castiel. "Dean. You look troubled." The older Winchester felt the angel's intense stare on his back and answered without turning: "I'm good." A hint of disappointment was mixed into Castiel's voice as he lay a hand upon Dean's shoulder and while twisting his torso gently so that the other man had to look him into the eye, the angel said softly: "You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor." As Dean did not answer Castiel tried again: "Dean. I do not even need to read your mind for your discomfort is clearly written on your face." The hunter felt anger rise and push away his lethargy. "If you already know what's the matter then why bother asking? Why are you hear anyways? Another seal for us to try to secure and fail at the attempt?" He lay all the bitterness that filled him, all the despair he felt into these words and by the hurt look in Castiel's eyes the angel had not missed them. The burning hate inside him, hate for his own inability to stop Lillith, to save Sam, to hold them together as a family, this hate grew stronger when he looked at the angels eyes and saw trust and confidence in them. Castiel still believed in him, believed firmly that he, Dean Winchester, looser extraordinaire, would be able to stop the apocalypse. "Cas. Just fuck off and leave me alone." After this outburst the anger inside of Dean dissolved quickly and only tiredness remained. But instead of just disappearing (when had he ever got what he wished for?) the angel simply extended his right hand for Dean to take. He waited a few moments and as the hunter made no move to grab hold of it, he said softly and full of compassion: "Take my hand, Dean." Curiosity blossomed inside Dean's chest alongside with another feeling. Castiel was still here. The angel still did not think of him as a waste of his time. He was still willing to take all that shit Dean was dishing out. "You need not be afraid, Dean. Just take my hand." "And...?" The curious word had left the older Winchester's mouth before he even knew it. "And we will go on... vacation, I think you would call it. It is clear and without ambiguity that you are in need of recreation." Although Cas was right on that one Dean could not simply pull a houdini and disappear on Sam. "Don't you have work for me to do? Stop the apocalypse and stuff? And what about Sam. Isn't he too in 'dire need of recreation'?" Was that a small smile tugging at the angel's lips? Castiel's eyes wandered over the motel doors, stopped at the one he knew the younger Winchester behind. "We won't be gone for too long. And Sam is asleep." Dean frowned. Lately Sam hardly slept - same as he himself. Too much was on their minds. And when tiredness finally stroke it was no sleep, it was more than a passing out of exhaution. "What do you mean? Asleep?" The angel sighed softly. Today was one of these days where Dean was even more straining than normally. But this was one of the traits he had to accept. "I helped him fall asleep. He will not be up until well after sunrise. Refreshed and strengthened for another day of battle. And now I wish to do the same for you. Please take my hand." Again he waited a few moments but then he saw the change in Dean's demeanour seconds before the older Winchester sighed dramatically and mumbled while grabbing the angel's hand: "You are such a pig head, Cas..."

The next moment they were no longer in the impala. And they were no longer sitting either. Still holding hands both stood under small trees in what could only be some kind of park or garden. There were ... arrangements of trees, of bushes, of flowers, of other plants Dean did not know. And between those isles of growth short and silky grass covered the ground. A soft wind brought the smell of a coming storm to their nostrils as Castiel slowly started to walk. It was beautiful, serene, peaceful. The scent of flowers and spices was in the air. Basil. Lavender. Yellow flowers smelling of chocolate. "Where are we?" Dean was still holding the angels hand and walking next to him in awe. Dark clouds loomed over them. The threat of a thunderstorm, the promise of rain. And still it was a calm atmosphere, full of expectation. "This is the Garden of Hope, Dean." They stopped at a group of plants bearing various types of tomatoes. Castiel picked a dark brown one with a purple touch and offered it to the hunter. "This is where I venture whenever I am at risk of losing my balance." Dean answered full mouthed: "It's beautiful here." The angel pulled Dean softly forward and they continued to stroll through the garden. When they stopped again they were standing in front of plants Dean did not know. One had breathtakingly blossoms. In black. Another one's leaves where dark red with light green veins. A spicy smell, unfamiliar, intense but pleasant surrounded them. "Look at the sky, Dean." Castiel pointed at the dark mountains clouding the nightly sky. "The storm is coming. No one can escape. But the plants are still growing. The flowers still blossom. They will fight with all they have. And not all will survive. But there will be enough of them left to carry on. For after the storm cometh the calm. The sun will shine again." Suddenly there was one of the small black flowers in Castiel's hand. He took a deep breath while closing his eyes, taking in the scent of the fragile thing and sighing in bliss. "Beauty lies in the insignificant." He put the flower into Dean's hand and continued to talk while the older Winchester considered carefully if he should sniffle at the flower too. "You do know I am not sure if we even have a chance to win this war anymore. But I still fight. Because surrender would mean to welcome Lucifer. That I can not do. You too should not despair. We have to give Lillith a hard fight. Even if she succeeds in the end, it is not The End. Dean, please..." The older Winchester closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and felt the sweet scent of the black blossom fill not only his nose but all of his body. It was a light and fresh feeling. Like having a shower after digging up a grave in the middle of summer. When he opened his eyes again there was hope written all over Castiel's face. Dean's lips twitched and formed a gentle smile. After all his angel still believed in him. His angel. The smile grew and happiness and rapture filled the hunter. He put the flower into the first button hole of Castiel's coat, took the angel's hand in a firm grip and let the smile reach his eyes for the first time in a very long period. _Thank you_. He did not need to say these words. His angel already knew. _His _angel.


End file.
